My Beautiful Wife and I just got back from a trip to Italy. My father bought our plane tickets and arranged for us, along with my brothers and sisters and their spouses, to meet in Rome, where we spent five days walking among the ruins and splendors of the ancient world and five nights eating pasta and drinking Italian wine. Then we took the train up to Cinque Terre, just the two of us, for three days of hiking and reading and sitting on the beach (and more pasta and wine).
For the last day, I’ve been wondering about what I should write. I started a few things–pretty typical screeds about American provincialism and boorish tourist behavior, crazy Italian drivers, the glorious works of Michelangelo and Raphael and Bernini, the value of foreign travel. You’ve read them all before. I don’t have anything new to say about any of these topics.
So I decided I’d share some pictures.